there ain't no god here, as far as i can see; your god of hope and light never did nothin' straight by me.

keep building your ladder out of here. i'll bring you more lumber. mine crumbled into the muck after i nailed the seventh rung. there's no air between us and the sky; you should practice holding your breath before you start building up much higher. i used to practice in the mud. there are rainbows down here, too; if the sun ever comes out, watch the oil collecting its light and splintering it into greasy colors. don't try to pick them up. i tried once, and the oil clung to my hand like the tears of abandoned children. and it wouldn't wash off in the rain. it won't ever stop raining.